Bobby in Paris

Boy tugs at his mother --
Rough, on her sleeve.
He’s spied a shining something
That could be Coke tab
Or a jewel.

Argumentative and
Stuffed-to-fill
with griddle-flattened patties,
Special sauce, sesame --
Aromatic cheese --
He hopes, like all boys, everywhere:
Something ancient.
Something new.
Something better.

He bends, to pick it up.

Outside, still, the women
sway their round hips
knowingly; tie pretty scarves
a thousand mysterious
ways: The City of Lights.